


In Strength, Solace

by SirLadySketch



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Post Crestwood, Post-Break Up, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:11:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3769720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLadySketch/pseuds/SirLadySketch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After several awkward weeks of uncomfortable silences and limited interactions, Remli breaks down to ask Solas for assistance. Set post-Crestwood scene, post party banter with Cole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Strength, Solace

“Solas, I need to speak with you.”

It hurt to see him flinch at her voice, to see him gather himself up before turning around. She forced herself to clasp her hands behind her, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet as he turned to face her. 

That small smile she’d come to love, that she’d hoped to see again, was replaced by a pursed frown. His brows knit together, his shoulders somewhat slumped. There were faint smudges under his eyes, and subtle creases in his tunic, although he’d been sleeping in them. He looked… tired.

“Inquisitor, there is nothing more to say on the subject—“ he started, but she shook her head, holding up a hand.

“No, this isn’t about… that.” She said, gesturing briefly in the air. “I need your advice with something, um, personal, and I would prefer it be somewhere private.” 

“Surely your advisors would be better suited to help you,” he protested, half turning to look back at his research, but she stepped forward, grabbing his arm. When he tensed, she let go, retreating a few steps.

“Please, Solas,” she said, lowering her voice and silently cursing the waver that crept into her voice. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to stand tall and look him in the eye. “I will not keep you from your research long, as I know that you have much to do. I simply need to ask you something.” She glanced above at the spot where Dorian lurked, listening in more often than not. “Somewhere else.”

Solas saw her gaze and nodded, briefly. She spun on her heel to lead him out of the keep, through the courtyard and out towards the bridge. When they were several paces away from the sentries at the gate and well out of human—and elf—earshot, she turned to speak, but Solas interrupted.

“I will not leave until our task is complete,” he stated before she had a chance to speak. He frowned at her choice of private places to talk, then turned to glower at her. “I still may be of use to the Inquisition, even if you do not wish me here.”

“What…? Oh, no,” she said, laughing a little at his frown, despite herself. The tension in her chest lessened a little, and she tried to recall when the last time she’d laughed. Too long to remember, anyway. “No, Solas, I will not let you off so easily. You promised me an answer, and I will hold you to it.”

He relaxed a little, and it stung that he thought her so petty. As if bringing him out here signified that she’d meant to dismiss him from the Inquisition for … well. _He wasn’t wrong to think so_ , she admitted to herself. The thought had crossed her mind, briefly, but a long stint of killing Venatori in the Western Approach had helped rather a lot. 

He had promised to make things clear when everything was over, and she believed him. On those trips where he accompanied the rest of the party, she could feel his gaze lingering when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Clearly he was still interested, and she longed to go back to that easy closeness between them. If she was honest with herself, she had been spending a bit more time than was warranted wandering around their outposts when they needed to focus on Corypheus. Once they were done, once he relieved himself of whatever terrible secret that weighed him down, they could start anew. The hope was a fragile, tenuous thing, but it was what she had left at this point, and she refused to let it go.

“I need your help with something,” she repeated, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. He nodded, briefly. “This is the only place I can think of where people cannot interrupt us without warning.”

“I will do whatever is in my power to assist you,” he said coolly, no inflection in his voice, no warmth. Distant and uninterested, he observed her but betrayed no emotion. She couldn’t hold that terrible gaze for long. Shutting her eyes she turned from him, walking over to lean against the bridge wall and clasp her hands in front of her, staring out over the mountains and valleys below. 

_This was a bad idea_ , she thought, feeling the words catch in her throat. _How can I say anything without sounding pathetic, or without him thinking less of me? Will he leave if he sees how weak I have become? Gods, it hurts. Damn him, it HURTS._

“Inquisitor?” he prompted, and she bowed her head over her hands, a supplication to whatever god might be listening to help her speak. When her voice finally came to her, it was high and tight. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes, and she hated herself for it.

“I need to know how you do it,” she stammered, the words tumbling out. “I don't understand how you can focus on what needs to be done, shut out all other things. I don’t understand how you can be so damned calm,” she said, choking on the last word. She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, tears of hurt and frustration managing to slip out. 

“I’ve never had to do this before, I can’t run off into the woods to gather myself together, and I can’t appear weak in front of all of them, they’re depending on me. Even my thoughts aren’t my own,” she sniffed, pressing the heels of her palm against her eyes. “Cole started saying things in front of the others and it almost cost Dorian an arm. I can’t let people get hurt because of my weaknesses. If I cannot get my thoughts and feelings under control…” She exhaled, a deep, shuddering breath, and she pressed her head against the cool stone. 

“You walk a difficult path,” he said quietly, and she felt cloth being pressed into her hand. She opened her eyes to see he’d offered her one of the clothes he kept on hand for wrapping any artifacts they found. She took it gratefully, dabbing at her eyes and wiping at her nose. 

_I must look a mess_ , she thought, trying to clean herself up as much as possible. She glanced towards the castle, and was grateful to see he was shielding her from view of the guards. His mask had slipped and she could see regret, the same look he’d given her at Crestwood when he’d left her bewildered and abandoned in the woods. He closed his eyes for a beat, and when he opened them again, his placid expression was back in place.

“I do not envy you for what lies ahead, but you must remain strong,” he said, and she could hear a bit of the old warmth behind those words. She longed to reach out and take hold of him, but she knew the touch would be gently, kindly rebuffed. 

“Each person finds their own strength, and must learn what they can draw upon in their time of need. For me, it is in memories of happier times and the promise of more to come. They remind me why I must succeed, even when the way is hard and the heart aches,” he said, and she felt his fingers beneath her chin, lifting her head to look at him. “You are strong, Remli. You simply must find a way to believe it for yourself.”

His fingers dropped, and the loss of sensation sent a shiver through her. He stepped back, still shielding her from the view of the guards, but turning slightly to block some of the wind. She dabbed at here eyes again and sighed.

“That wasn’t really an answer,” she said, and he laughed, softly.

“It is the only one I have for you,” he apologized, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I know that you will find it.”

She gave him a brief smile, forcing herself to stand taller and shuck off the demeanor of a love-sick fool to assume the role of the mighty Inquisitor once more. She cleared her throat once again, willing herself to make her tone light.

“And in the meantime, what do I do about Cole?” She asked, and he gave her a slight smile.

“Speak to him, ask him not to say things best left unsaid. He may not understand, but he will do what he can to help,” Solas said, removing his hand and starting to walk back towards Skyhold. “And if he starts to speak out of turn, think of nugs. He seems rather taken with them, and should provide distraction enough to keep your thoughts your own.”

She laughed at the image of Cole surrounded with young nugs, and while her heart still hurt, the pain was a little less, the weight on her shoulders a little lighter. Solas believed in her, and thought her strong. Come what may, she would do this, for him, and for herself.


End file.
